We head downstairs to my waiting car and go to dinner, but I have no intention of letting things with Steve go. I can read people and that guy isn’t harmless.

“Wow, I had no idea this place was here.” We step down off the street through a hidden door and into a jazz club. The lights are dim, the ambiance is romantic as the sultry voice of a woman on stage fills the room.

“Evening, Mr. Vaughn,” the owner greets me, taking us to a quiet circular booth in the far back of ...